


A King's Forfeit

by jayistootiredforthis



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bad Ending, Character Death, Child Death, Death, Digging Your Own Grave, Dream SMP Spoilers, Dream Team SMP Spoilers, Forced Labor, Forgiveness, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Torture, Injury, Karlnapity, Minor Character(s), Minor Swearing, Murder-Suicide, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Self-Sacrifice, Spoilers, Torture, Trauma, Tubbo dies, Unfinished, Whump, death of a minor, dream has attachments after all, dream smp au, get them out of here trope, hey this gets really ansgty, i am so sorry karlnapity community, it cuts away just before the bad part, karlnapity my beloved, no beta we die like tubbo, ooh angsty memory dialogue, parent figure watches child figure die, please this is very not happy, prison labor, punz gets there too late, schlatt mention, technoblade mention, the birds carry messages to explain voice chats!, the music discs are a big deal i guess lmao, there are multiple chapters planned out here, tommy and tubbo were best friends, tommyinnit is not very nice, unsympathetic tommy, vague doctor who mention, watching s/o die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:29:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28908615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jayistootiredforthis/pseuds/jayistootiredforthis
Summary: AU where Punz gets delayed/stuck for a bit too long and Tubbo decides he isn't a pawn anymore. /RP
Relationships: Tubbo and tommy - Relationship, don't be weird - Relationship, non ship - Relationship
Comments: 6
Kudos: 149





	1. checkmate

**Author's Note:**

> hee hoo PLEASE read the tags

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...
> 
> “Come here.” Dream’s voice wasn’t cold-- no, this was worse. A calculated sort of curiosity, a cat playing with a mouse. Tubbo took a shaking step forward.
> 
> ...

“It’s about time anyway.” Tubbo said softly, tears gathering slowly. He wiped them away. He didn’t want to get Tommy’s shirt wet when he held his body.  
Tommy’s shirt was far beyond saving, however, and tears splashed down almost like fountains. Shaking, he looked over at Dream. The mask stayed in place. The ever-seeing smile.  
Will Punz get here? Where is he?  
“Come here.” Dream’s voice wasn’t cold-- no, this was worse. A calculated sort of curiosity, a cat playing with a mouse. Tubbo took a shaking step forward.  
“TUBBO!” Tommy didn’t know what else to do. “Don’t you DARE go any closer. Tubbo.” His voice cracked. Tubbo didn’t look back, only stepping closer to the hooded figure.  
“I’m not a pawn.”  
“Hmm?” Dream sounded like he was barely paying attention to Tubbo, his body turned towards Tommy as if to gage his reaction.  
“I’m not a pawn.” Tubbo’s voice was louder, and now Dream turned back.  
“Oh, Tubbo. But you are.” They could hear the smile in Dream’s voice.  
“You have to feel something. You’re too much of a coward to show your stupid face, is that it? COWARD!” Tommy could feel himself slipping, slipping, slipping as he desperately tried to hold on with his words. Dream gave a soft puff of laughter.  
“Ah, well. Who are you going to tell?” And he pulled up his mask.  
They contemplated, for a moment. All three of them, looking each other in the eyes.  
“Don’t you see?” Dream said softly, and it sounded wrong; watching his mouth move. “I don’t care. I don’t feel bad about this. I will kill Tubbo in front of you, Tommy, and you will watch. He will bleed here. It will hurt. He will scream. Understand this, Tommy.”  
And, finally, Tommy believed him. Somehow, without the mask on, it made Dream less human saying those things. Hot fear and cold, dark anguish ripped his insides apart, leaving him dizzy.  
“Kill me.” Tubbo had not turned around the entire time, his back still to Tommy, but the voice was unmistakable. Dream laughed, finally looking away from Tommy’s eyes and prowling like the predator he was, sinuous and teasing.  
“You are going to die here, Tubbo. You can’t escape. Tommy will stay there. There will be no hand holding. You will die alone and afraid. Do. You. Understand. Me.”  
“To HELL I’ll stay back!” Tommy yelled, moving forward, but Dream simply put his blade to Tubbo’s throat. Both boys stilled.  
“Move one more inch? And it’ll be slower and slower. I have all the time in the world.” Dream said, slowly lowering his arm. Tubbo still didn’t turn around. “Now. Where?...”  
The next few minutes seemed to warp, too fast and too slow all at once. Dream circled Tubbo, poking and prodding every once and a while with his sword as if to test his durability. Each time, Tubbo gasped in shock and choked back a cry. Every time, Tommy broke a little further. And, always, Dream’s smile grew wider.  
Finally, Dream found his way in front of Tubbo again, slanted just so Tommy could see him.  
Gently, almost lovingly, he placed his sword under Tubbo’s chin, angled it up. Tommy knew that in one movement, that sword would plunge right through Tubbo’s skull.  
“What do you think?” Dream muttered, glancing at Tommy. His voice was barely audible. “Should we make him kneel?” Tommy stayed silent, as did Tubbo, both crying furiously now. “I said, SHOULD WE MAKE HIM KNEEL?” Dream bellowed, and the boys flinched.  
“No.” Tommy whispered. “No.”  
“Alright then.” Dream sighed. “It would have been fun. But it’s all up to you.”  
“And what about me?” Dream and Tommy turned toward the voice, trying desperately to hold onto strength even at swordpoint. “Don’t I get a say?”  
“What would you if you could?” Dream said, genuine confusion on his face. “I gave you time for goodbyes. What else?...”  
“Not… not there.” Tubbo had to restart midway through, coughing to clear his throat. “Not, uh, on my head please.”  
Laughter. Roaring laughter. Tommy desperately wanted to cover his ears, but he dared not, in case he were to miss a single sound from his best friend. There were none to waste.  
“Fine.” Dream wheezed, turning the blade away and showing Tubbo the handle. “Guide my hand. Where do you want it?” The last question sent him into another trembling fit of stifled laughs.  
Slowly, as if not to startle a dangerous animal, Tubbo placed his hand over Dream’s. Not trying to take the sword away, simply guiding. He turned Dream’s wrist so that the tip pressed his chest and slowly brought it down to his stomach area, right under where his rib cage split off. A bit right from his heart. Dream smiled, softer this time.  
“Alright. What should I say? Goodbye?” His eyes darted from the still frozen Tommy to the helpless Tubbo.  
“Tubbo.”  
“Yes, Tommy?”  
“I love you.”  
“I love you too.” Dream internally started as Tubbo locked eyes with him. “And I am NOT your pawn.”  
Dream realized a second too late, tightened his grip too slowly. Tubbo, hand still on the hilt of his sword, shoved it into his chest, immediately screaming before gurgling and choking on rising blood.  
It wasn’t out of mercy that he pulled the sword back out as Tubbo’s hand fell, not of a drive to end his life sooner; but he knew the other boy would rush to his friend and did not wish to give him a weapon when he was this angry.  
Tommy was on the floor. He didn’t know how he had gotten there, but he tried to crawl toward his friend. Tubbo. His Tubbo. He vaguely saw Dream back away, only noticing because of the sword he took with him. By the time he got to Tubbo, it was too late. A last gurgle and bubble of blood left his lips, and the President was still.  
“You should have paid me more, Dream.”


	2. the crushing strength that comes from losing someone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...
> 
> Determined, yet still not sure his next actions are the right ones, he walks to the edge of the path, staring into the bubbling lava. His bruises and cuts protest as he sits, but he doesn’t listen, putting down the mask to draw his discs from his pocket. 
> 
> ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay okay i know there is a lot of dialogue but just. hmm. also pls dont hate me about the way that this one is present tense and the first one wasn't okay it was for the VIBE

A slow march.  
The clanking of the chains.  
The grunts of Eret struggling to hold Tubbo; Puffy murmuring that she can help.  
The soft sobs from behind him.  
The path in front of him.  
The discs in his pocket.  
The mask in his hand.  
These are all the things that Tommy is aware of. The nether shimmers around them, but the heat cannot reach them; they are all too wrapped up in cold, hard grief to notice. The path widens in front of Tommy, who keeps going until he sees the portal. He stops short. Everyone else follows suit.  
“Go on.” Tommy croaks, raising his hand at the protests. “I said, go on. I’ll be there in five minutes. If I’m not, come back for me.” His eyes remain on the lava. Slowly, the others shuffle past him, unable to deny him, still such a child, these few moments of silence.  
Eret and Puffy go first, Puffy looking blankly ahead as tears form in the king’s eyes. Next, a shackled Dream is pushed roughly through the portal by Sam and Sapnap, both with stone expressions. The rest trickle by, none stopping but Ranboo, and only then to brush a quick touch onto Tommy’s shoulder before leaving him to his solitude.  
Tommy lets out a deep sigh.  
I know what I have to do.  
Determined, yet still not sure his next actions are the right ones, he walks to the edge of the path, staring into the bubbling lava. His bruises and cuts protest as he sits, but he doesn’t listen, putting down the mask to draw his discs from his pocket. He holds them up in front of him, his right hand steady; and then, without a tremble, he throws them as far as they’ll go, out into the lava. Instead of watching them hit the molten rock, he closes his eyes.  
'Do you know what happens to traitors, Tubbo?'  
'No?'  
'Nothing good.'  
His breath comes rapidly now; he is shaking, teetering, and if he falls he will fall, and he will burn, and he will see Tubbo again…  
“Tommy? Tommy!” A hand grabs his shoulder, roughly pulling him back. “You idiot, Tommy! Get away from the edge!” Tommy’s eyes open and he turns, looking at the furious face of Quackity.  
“Sorry.” He muttered, getting up and brushing off any dust or debris. When he looks back up, Quackity’s eyes are full of tears. Without another word, Tommy feels himself being hugged, with the crushing strength that comes with losing someone. Slowly, he breaks down, and they sink to the floor, holding each other, friends once more from the hole Tubbo has left. They will get up eventually. 

Ah, the bench.  
Where everything started.  
Tommy runs his hand over the wood. He would have come sooner, but after he and Quackity were found in a mess on the ground and Big Q had explained the state he had been in, he was under house arrest for two days. To make sure he wasn’t being irrational, they said. So he wasn’t a threat. So, Eret had said after the rest had left, they didn’t lose him, too.  
They needn’t have worried. Whatever possessed him to teeter on the edge was gone now. He still had unfinished business.  
Dream was still alive. Locked up in Sam’s prison, no way to escape, no way to break in. Tommy planned to deal with him later.  
The discs were gone. Nothing could be used against him again. He would never let anything else be used as a shield for him.  
He sat down on the bench with a thunk, feeling the hard wood slam into his bones. Very carefully, he took out Dream’s mask from his jacket and set it into the music player. If he thought very hard, he could almost hear Mellohi.  
'You and me, versus Dream.'  
'Have you not noticed? Everyone who’s claiming to be on our side, they’re lying to us! Tubbo? He’s lying to you, man! He-- he would drop us the SECOND he realizes we’re not in the lead anymore!' 'No, no! Stop it, alright?'  
'You… KILLED him!' 'Yeah, I did! I did fuckin’ kill him, Niki! The hell do you want?'  
'You- you actually murdered Tubbo.'  
'... if your stomach’s feeling a bit woozy after seeing Tubbo die, I suppose you could-- I suppose you could get lost. I mean, holy shit, Wilbur. You really just crawled up here on the day of my festival, celebrating my country, that YOU are not a part of, and you started-- you started crying.'  
'I care about your discs, ‘cause that’s what gives me power over you and your friends, and EVERYBODY you care about!'  
'They’re just. Music discs. They shouldn’t be able to dictate the future of an entire nation.'  
'Listen, listen, listen, Tubbo, Tubbo. I-- I-- ah, well, thank you for giving me the disc. I just want to say that you’re an idiot. You are an absolute idiot. And you have no power and you are the worst president that has ever been president-elect because you’re no president at all!'  
'Tommy, I’m not done with you. L’manberg’s story is over, but our story isn’t over.” “Our story ISN’T over, Dream, but it WILL be.” “I don’t think it’ll ever be over. You’re too fun.'  
'We get back the discs… or we die trying. We… Tubbo.'  
'What am I-- what am I without you?' 'Yourself.'  
'I’m not a pawn.'  
'Kill me.'  
'Tubbo.' 'Yes, Tommy?' 'I love you.'  
'I love you, too.'  
“Tommy?”  
Tommy opens his eyes, and he suddenly is aware that he is on the ground in front of the bench.  
“Hello?”  
“I’m proud of you, Tommy.”  
“Wilbur?”  
It was impossible, but the voice is unmistakable. It carries the tone of being in a room too large, too far, like that of Ghostbur-- but this one is different. It was impossible for Tommy to describe, but the voice is… Wilbur. Very much so.  
“Oh, Tommy. Tommy.” Tommy looks around frantically for his brother, but finds nothing.  
“Where are you?” He whispers.  
“You can’t see me. Sit down.” Tommy slowly lowers himself onto the bench. “I’m proud of you, Tommy. You showed that green bastard, all right. You got the discs back.”  
“Wilbur, are you dead?”  
“Very much so. But that’s not the point--”  
“Are you dead… alone?”  
“Pardon?”  
“I mean… is Tubbo there?” Tommy’s voice breaks, and he holds his breath.  
“Yes, Tommy. Tubbo is here… not here right now, but he’s in the afterlife.”  
Tommy lets out his breath, trying not to sound frustrated. He hopes Wilbur hadn’t noticed-- he doesn’t need questions, just information.  
“Wilbur, can you come back? Can you send… can you send Tubbo back through? Dream said he and Schlatt knew how… if Schlatt is there…”  
“No, Tommy.” Wilbur’s voice is deep with sorrow. “I can’t bring any of us back. You’d need Dream.” There is a long, long, long silence as Tommy sorts everything out in his head, shifting around plans and ideas. Deep inside, he is locking away something infinitely more precious, infinitely more human-- his emotion.  
“Good.”  
“What?”  
“I said,” Tommy enunciates as he gets off of the bench and looks at the crater below, “good. I don’t want anything back. It’s best like this. Go on, now, Wilbur.”  
And he walks away from the spluttering ghost, back to the sunset, and sets off to settle some scores.


	3. i think i'm sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...
> 
> “Tommy.” He whispered softly. He was meant with a blank stare. “You don’t have to do this.”  
> “Go stand by your charge, Warden."
> 
> ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BIG CW:
> 
> d3ath, unsympathetic!Tommy, bad bad things happen
> 
> and as always, remember,  
> /rp

Quite the crowd had gathered.  
In a hole in front of them, a man dug; the orange of his jumpsuit was dulled by the dirt coating it, but it was still unmistakeable. It was odd to see him in a different color. Of course, it all paled in comparison to him being maskless; but he could be a wonder in multiple ways at once.  
Looking down, the warden hadn’t moved for hours, barely noticing the people showing up to watch Dream dig the rectangle into the ground. His eyes were trained on the prisoner’s back, and the keen observer would notice that every once and a while he would gulp, as if pushing back tears that he dare not cry.  
Dream worked through the night, and the crowd waned and waxed with the sun; by dawn it was done. What it was, no one knew, not even the man himself; but quite a few of them had figured it out.  
It sat there, an impression in the earth, perfect edges and lines. Sam’s legs dangled over the edge, and slowly Dream approached him.  
“I’m done.” He croaked, and Sam passed him down a bucket of water to drink from. He took it gratefully, downing half of it before setting it down and collapsing. Sam glanced at the gathered civilians, scanning for anyone who would reprimand him for what he willed to do; instead he locked eyes with Captain Puffy, face red from tears and eyes swollen.  
Quickly, he hopped down and crouched beside Dream, making sure his vitals were stable and forcing him into the fetal position to ensure he didn’t vomit up the water he just ingested.  
A bird landed in front of each person (with the exception of Dream), a murder of crows that descended to the recipients. They all blinked, sadness flashing behind their eyes. They all remembered the days where those birds were red and tropical; now their feathers only reflected darkness. All the birds opened their beaks, only seconds apart, and Tommy’s voice echoed throughout the space (if only because of the multitude of messages).  
“When the sun passes the horizon completely. The digging site.”  
The last of the crows finished their messages, and silence rang. Softly, each member tapped theirs, sending it back to their master. Message received. Then, almost simultaneously, they each turned to look at the morning sky.  
About thirty minutes.  
Back in the lot, Sam was gently rubbing Dream’s back, parental instincts kicking in even though he was near Dream’s age. He could hear the shaky breathing from the man beside him, and something in his heart broke as he let himself accept what was about to happen.  
“Sam.” The whisper came from next to him, and Sam started, looking around. No one else could have heard. “Sam, you and I both know what’s going to happen next. Yeah? No need to pretend.” Swallowing, Sam replied, voice just as soft.  
“Yes.”  
“Okay. Okay.” Dream seemed to gather himself. “And I know you… can’t do anything about it.”  
“Yes.”  
“And I’m still asking you for help.” Pain shot through Sam, and he fell back.  
“Why? So I can live with the fact that I denied you?”  
“Maybe.” Dream looked up, a crooked smile that didn’t reach his eyes splitting his face. “Or maybe I’m just desperate. Maybe I’m just asking because it’s the only goddamn thing I can think to do.”  
They stared at each other for a while, neither willing to say a word, until Sam turned his head. Of course.  
“I think… I think I’m sorry.”  
“Okay.” The reply was simple, and Dream turned his head back to his knees. Slowly, Sam got up, limbs heavy as he dragged himself back onto the ledge.  
The crowd thickened slightly as those few who had not been there before arrived. Everyone could taste the tension. Many of them had come to the same conclusion Dream and the warden had. Some looked at Sam, some at Dream; none at each other.  
A few groups stood out notably, either by being far or near the front.  
Up at the front of the crowd, Alyssa’s eyes were on the prisoner, George standing next to her with a similar expression of despair and disgust. Off to Sam’s left, Puffy held her hands together, gaze flicking back and forth between the two men. Behind her, holding hands, Karl and Quackity held Sapnap between them.  
The absence of one person was evident; the empty space in the crowd where Techno could have stood screamed.  
Of course, Tubbo wasn’t there. Isn’t that why they all were?  
The sun passed the top edge of the horizon. Everyone stiffened.  
And then he was there.  
Tommy walked up with a purpose, still casual, as if he was on a normal adventure, before clapping a hand onto Sam’s shoulder.  
“Sam! My man.” He grinned, but it was off; though it reached his eyes, there was a derangement there. He very well could have been Wilbur, about to push the button.  
There wasn’t much difference.  
The warden got up, legs shaking slightly as he faced the boy. So young. So young.  
“Morning, Tommy.” He replied.  
“Well!” Tommy clapped his hands and smiled briefly at him before turning it outwards towards the crowd. “Thank you all for coming!” He looked positively euphoric. “You may have an idea of why we’re here, but let me clear up any confusion. We are here to show justice to this man,--” he pointed at Dream, not looking at him-- “the TYRANT ruler that has held us in fear for so long, and has caused more crimes than we would have time to count. The most notable of which, of course…” he hopped down and, before Sam could stop him, grabbed Dream’s hair to raise his face and slapped it. A mutter rose from the crowd, and Sam followed him, but Tommy was done, releasing him and backing off. “The most notable,” he continued, as if nothing had happened, “being the murder of my good friend and our ex-President Tubbo. So!” Tommy turned to fully face the audience again. “I’m going to need some help here! Pity Techno isn’t here.” His tone gave no indication as to whether the warrior had even gotten an invite. “So… hmm. Punz!” He called, and the crowd parted to show Punz and Purpled. Punz glanced around before slowly walking to the front. “Come on down!” Tommy called, still casual as ever. Punz silently complied, and the crowd resealed the wound his path had made.  
Dream didn’t move as the mercenary approached them.  
“Tommy, what is this? What is worth the payment I found today?” Punz muttered once he was close enough. He was ignored by the boy, whose gaze was raking over the gathered people with keen interest.  
“Sapnap! My friend! You helped get him into the prison-- would you help me out, here?”  
Sapnap’s hands tightened, holding onto Quackity and Karl as if letting go would drop him. His fiancees dared not cast overt glares at Tommy, but the tenseness in their bodies was unmistakable. Sapnap finally untangled his fingers from there, muttering soothing words at their protests, and kissed each of their hands.  
“I’ll be back.” He whispered to them. With this promise burning bright, they let him go, immediately grasping each other for support. Slowly, Sapnap walked forward, briefly brushing Puffy to get the edge of the dip. He lowered himself down, walking over to the group.  
“Thank you!” Tommy said cheerily, as if it was by choice the man was there. “This is going kinda slow-- I want this to look nice. How about we have… Purpled! We need to get along better. And… George, please. Yes, that will be good… That should do it, with Sam here! Alright, then!”  
Tommy turned with a smile, looking around, as if drinking in the sight. The man behind him, on his knees in the fresh soil. The guests, anxious, looking from him to the crowd to the warden.  
“Today we are bringing justice, as I said.” Tommy repeated. His eyes flickered to those near him, and a smile broke across his face. “But not the way you may think.” A murmur rippled through the crowd, and Sam tilted his head. Tommy pulled himself up onto the edge of the hole, squinting and holding out his arms as if measuring it. “You see, friends, this is indeed a grave. A grave for Mr. Dream here, in front of me. But, my friends, a grave is about 2 meters deep, which this is, but they’re also almost point eight meters wide and two and a half long. And this, my friends, is much bigger.”  
He was right-- the whole was much longer and wider than a couple of meters. Sam looked at Tommy, and then at the people around him in the pit, and then back-- and terror wrenched through him, and leaving Dream behind he threw himself towards the boy, grabbing him by the shoulders.  
“Tommy. No. No.” He whispered, desperate. “Please, Tommy. Don’t tell me you’re going to do this.” Tommy blinked slowly. “Tommy, you can’t. You can’t.”  
“I could.” Tommy’s voice was cold, and Sam stepped back in shock. “I could, Sam, and that’s the thing. I don’t think you understand how powerful I am. How powerless you are, against me. I could. But I won’t.” He watched Sam visibly relax, stumble backwards, and chose his next words carefully. “Well. Not all of it.” Before Sam could even think, he had been pushed to the side as Tommy walked towards the edge.  
“Many months ago, I stood on another edge.” He called. “Driven there, to the top of that tower, by the-- the MONSTER that you see before you!” He gestured wildly to Dream, who kept his gaze on the ground. “I was weak, and alone. And it was because he grew to power and kept it. He held us all like puppets on a string until he was able to make us do anything. Make our closest friends turn against us, make those people fight in his name, create a world so full of fear that no one dared resist. But he didn’t do it alone.” His eyes, made even colder by the absence of the fire that had once burned there, rested on George and Sapnap. “Punz. Purpled. If you would restrain our old king and lackey, please.”  
George, in his shock, was easily restrained by the rope Tommy threw down from his pocket, didn’t even say a word as he was shoved roughly to the ground by Purpled a few feet away from Dream; but Sapnap was screaming and kicking, spitting at Punz and thrashing around. Sam broke out of his trance and jumped down to help, grabbing Sapnap’s wrists as Punz got a swift kick to the shins. At first, the man seemed to be shouting nonsense; but eventually, it became evident what he was trying to say.  
“Puffy! Somebody!” He was crying, voice straining from the effort. “Get them out of here. Get them OUT!” The crowd pulsed, trying to listen as Karl and Quackity tried to push through the crowd, screeching. Finally Captain Puffy wrangled them away, tears streaming down her face, and a clump of people broke off to help her. His mission complete, Sapnap collapsed, shaking, and let himself be restrained.  
Sam, no longer needed, looked up at Tommy, who didn’t notice the tears streaming down his face.  
“Tommy.” He whispered softly. He was meant with a blank stare. “You don’t have to do this.”  
“Go stand by your charge, Warden. I need to speak to him safely.” Sam gaped for a moment before closing his jaw and silently moving over to Dream, who had barely moved.  
“Dream, Dream, Dream.” Tommy paced in front of him. “Look at me.” When he didn’t, Tommy grabbed his face and forced him to make eye contact, anger burning barely beneath the surface.  
“Why should I listen to you?” Dream hissed.  
“Because there’s nothing else to do.” Tommy said evenly. “How do you feel about your friends being here with you?”  
“I told you,” Dream said, casting a glance at the people next to him, “I don’t have any attachments.”  
“Bullshit.” Sapnap called, and Dream and George both flinched. “We’re all about to die, and you can’t admit you care about us?”  
“Yeah, Dream.” Tommy sneered. Dream ignored him, staring at George and Sapnap with desperation. “Don’t worry, it won’t hurt them any. There’s nothing you can do to save them.”  
“Maybe a bit of incentive?” Sam piped up, and Tommy looked over with genuine curiosity.  
“Incentive?”  
“If he tells them what they mean to him,” Sam said slowly, “perhaps we make it, uh, quick?”  
Tommy pulled a face.  
“But where’s the fun in that?”  
In that moment, Sam saw Tommy truly slip away, the last remains of childhood drain from his eyes. No longer was this a boy he was helping through, the boy who had run around in his childhood or talked to him about his problems with Phil. Before him was a cold and harsh dictator, a tyrant who would stop at nothing to get his way. He could do what he wanted, but no matter what happened to the kneeling man, Dream was still there, right in front of Sam.  
“Besides,” Tommy continued, pulling Sam out of his head, “they’ve been next to him from the very start. Urging him on, pretending to change, but ultimately betraying us in the end. By association, they’ve done heinous things. Don’t you think that deserves to be punished?”  
“But by that logic, shouldn’t you be punished for what happened with Wilbur?” Sam snapped, not letting himself regret it. “Running around with your big brother, looking up to him. Racing through life like naive children and then crying when it didn’t work out just like how you wanted it. And then he runs off and blows up the country, just like Dream did, and you couldn’t stop him. You didn’t even try. You and Tubbo--”  
“You leave Tubbo out of this.” Tommy’s face, which had been so carefully composed, broke for a second. “You leave him the fuck out of this, Sam.” He took a deep breath. “You’re right-- to an extent. But that was different. He was my brother, Sam. I couldn’t leave him. THESE two, however,” --a head jerk towards George and Sapnap-- “THESE two have had no reason to stay. In fact, they’ve had ample opportunity to leave.”  
“We did! We left!” Sapnap cried, but Tommy raised a hand.  
“They will be punished, Sam.”  
“And I’m not contesting that!” Sam pulled his hair, enraged by the conversation, which seemed to circle almost mockingly. “You can kill them! But maybe, just at the end, some mercy?”  
The silence stretched out, thick and palpable, and Sam realized that no one else had spoken during the whole exchange. He looked out at them-- the red faces, the swollen eyes, the trembling limbs and lips-- and realized that they, like he, now knew, now understood the magnitude of Tommy’s power. They were afraid. And so was he.  
“Fine.” Tommy said, and Sam let out a large breath. “Dream, you heard the man. Tell the truth and we’ll make it quick.” Tommy crouched down right in front of the prisoner, staring him dead in the face. “Go on, then.”  
Dream, still not looking at the boy in front of him, seemed at a loss for words for a moment.  
“George.” His voice cracked and crumbled, and all of a sudden everyone there already knew, knew that he had never let them go, had been pretending for their sake, and for a split second they saw a sliver of a broken and misguided man. “George, George. Please, George.” Dream’s eyes searched George’s, unobscured by the shades that lay broken on the ground, seeming to look for something that the rest of them didn’t know. For the first time since his capture, George spoke.  
“Dream.” He took a deep breath, steadied himself. “I forgive you.”  
“Thank you.” Dream said, breathing shaky, and his eyes looked to Sapnap. “Sapnap…”  
Sapnap didn’t meet Dream’s eyes.  
“I don’t forgive you, Dream. I don’t… I just… I don’t forgive you, but you don’t deserve this. No one deserves this.” With the final statement, he turned his gaze towards Tommy. “No one deserves this.”  
Tommy turned his head towards the man, eyes glazed over. A long moment passed.  
“Make it quick.”  
There have been many rumors as to how the bird was tamed. How they got to being the messengers that they are, their unnerving ability to find their recipient, all has been lost to time. Maybe it was some sort of instinct, bred and trained into perfection. Maybe they’re smarter than everyone gives them credit for. Maybe some things don’t need explanation.  
The swords swung, and the birds burst from the trees, dozens and dozens of all kinds fleeing into the mountains. None of them ever came back, and those that were found refused to cooperate-- they were broken, beyond repair or use. If you were able to coax anything out of them, it was always the same broken messages.  
The whoosh of the weapons.  
The cry of a captain, eyes not on her son but on the man who was leaving behind two more.  
The low moan of a warden, who never meant for it to be this way, never.  
The small, satisfied hum of the new, unspoken ruler.  
The cry of the men, cut off, one pure pain, one calling for his lovers in a final moment of weakness.  
And sometimes, very rarely, the birds would open their mouths as if delivering a message, only for their throats to produce silence. A muffling, thick silence, one that seemed to scream all on its own. The moment frozen in time after a tragedy.  
Perhaps the birds broke like this because, after all this time, they had run on love, and no more was found there that day.  
I don’t know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyo! the whole things about birds was from an animatic I believe about Ranboo being given a home by Philza? Anyways the idea is that that's how they send messages/ vc.  
> also shoutout to my best friend for helping me think of how to do this nicely


End file.
